


Enchantment

by koalathebear



Category: Dresden Files (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-28 15:50:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/309496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalathebear/pseuds/koalathebear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after the season finale to the series. There are spoilers for season one</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enchantment

Murphy sat alone at the bar staring moodily into the half-empty glass in which ice cubes were dissolving at a depressingly rapid rate.

If Dresden was there, he might have made some comment about a waste of a good drink. He might have ordered her another drink without her asking for one. In the beginning, his knowledge of what she drank had seemed mystical - now it was simply because they knew each other so well. Disturbingly, the familiarity seemed even more magical.

Dresden hadn't, however, arrived yet. After Murphy had sat down on the stool with a sigh of relief, she had realised that in her haste to get out the door, she had forgotten to tell Dresden exactly where she expected him to meet her. Upon realising her omission, she had reached for her cell to call him but with a faintly wry twist to her mouth had ending up just placing her cell down on the scuffed wooden surface of the bar.

It didn't matter that she hadn't told him where she'd be - Dresden would find her.

He always did.

Presumably it was all part of that wizardly mojo thing he did. Along with his inexplicable and mystical powers and knowledge was the odd ability to always locate overworked, over conscientious female cops with a saviour complex. Maybe the talent just came with the territory.

"Sorry I'm late," Dresden said breathlessly from behind her, a note of genuine apology in his voice. Murphy had sensed him standing there before she had heard him.

"Sorry _I_ forgot to tell you where to meet me," Murphy told him without bothering to turn around. Dresden slid onto the bar stool beside her and ordered a drink for himself and a replacement drink for her.

As Murphy looked at Dresden, she was conscious of the pang of emotion that bordered on an ache that she always felt when she saw him. Despite his intelligence and mystical job description, there he was pulling off his jacket and revealing his threadbare and thoroughly disreputable sweater that looked like it had been used to mop several centuries' worth of floors. She always longed to buy him a new sweater or at least help him mend the holes in his existing ones. Her uncharacteristic housewifely impulse made her want to laugh aloud. She didn't even feel that reaction in relation when she saw Anna's torn school clothing and she didn't care to psychoanalyse her current motivations.

The thing was, Harry Dresden didn't need help or salvation - from her or anyone else. He was well able to take care of himself. He also never seemed to be lacking female companionship. There was the pretty, attentive waitress she'd seen him with from time to time, the sexy blonde journalist, the tall, dark-haired and dangerously beautiful brunette Bianca who had an almost feral quality in her gaze. They were just a few in a series of very attractive women who flitted in and out of Dresden's life.

Despite Dresden's apparently active sex life, Murphy recognised the basic loneliness in the wizard. She knew it was loneliness because there was the same feeling inside of her even if she'd rather die than admit it.

Even now he was staring at her with his customary attentive wariness. For a man of his age and experience, there was something strangely endearing about the way he treated her - the cautiousness, the hesitance. It was almost as if he was worried that he might frighten her away with any sudden movement. She wasn't sure how she knew it but for a while now she had simply 'known' that Dresden regarded her as an anchor of sorts - keeping him attached to the mortal world and its strange quirks and futile goings on.

It was appropriate given that she had also come to rely on him as more than simply a consultant for cases with a slightly strange quality to them.

"So - you wanted to see me?" Dresden asked her finally after he had taken a swallow of his drink.

"Yeah - I wanted to thank you. For helping out with that last case."

"There's no need for a thank you," Dresden protested, looking very puzzled. He wasn't used to thanks from the no-nonsense Chicago cop. "Besides, you were framed. Anyone with a shred of commonsense would have realised that you're not a dirty cop. It was obvious that the evidence was planted."

"Thanks - but if it wasn't for you and ... whatever the hell it was that you did - no one would ever have known that. My career would have been over."

Dresden studied her steadily. "Would that have been such a terrible thing, Murphy?" he asked her unexpectedly. "Leave this life behind - a life where you spend your day around criminals and dead bodies - a life where you could be killed at any time?"

Murphy shrugged. "It's my job. It's what I do. I don't really know any other life. Besides - if not for the job, I wouldn't have met you."

Dresden looked amused and more than a little moved. "Some might say that was more of a curse than a blessing."

" _That old black magic that you do so well_ ," she quoted wickedly and laughed as Dresden began protesting in a very predictable fashion against how wrong it was for popular music to make light of something so serious and deadly as black magic. "Joke Dresden - joke. Besides, there's all kinds of magic in the world - not just that of the spell variety."

"Murphy," Dresden said abruptly.

Murphy stared up into Dresden's face. He had the faintly conflicted look in his eyes that he frequently had when he looked at her. As if he wanted to leave but found himself staying.

"Yes?"

"I have something for you," he said unexpectedly.

"A gift?" she demanded, looking very startled.

"Of sorts," he replied vaguely and drew a small, black velvet pouch from the pocket of his jacket. He untied the loop of ribbon and shook a delicate silver chain into the palm of his hand. Murphy looked very puzzled but held out her wrist as Dresden clasped it around her narrow wrist. It glowed with a strangely brilliant light for a long moment and she was aware of a feeling of warmth against her skin. Then the glow subsided and it looked like an ordinary chain once more, slender and delicate against her flesh.

Murphy examined it. "Uh Dresden?"

"Yes Murphy?"

"There's no clasp anymore. How do I get it off?" she asked him.

"You can't," he said conversationally and Murphy stared at him and he explained. "It's a protective amulet - it would defeat the notion if you could remove it," he told her. "I thought about it for a while. You've seen the movies, someone's always got a protective amulet but at the key moment, it gets snagged on a door handle or ripped off by the bad guy and the former wearer is left exposed and vulnerable. I thought about giving you an enspelled tattoo but I wasn't quite sure how you'd feel about a tattoo."

Murphy laughed despite herself. "Thank you for that."

"This is the next best thing. Most spells end with the spell caster's death but I figure that if I'm not around, you probably still need to be protected. Maybe more so." Murphy shivered at his casual discussion of his own death. "But I found this artefact after a long search and it's perfect - it will keep you safe since you insist on continually exposing yourself to danger."

Murphy said nothing, merely touched the bracelet with a light fingertip. "Will this help with the nightmares?" she asked him unexpectedly and Harry flinched.

"Still." He said flatly. It wasn't a question and Murphy gave a bittersweet smile and looked up at him.

"They're fading but I still see things. Gus Boone. Miller. You. It's frightening."

"The crystals I gave you for your room didn't work, I guess," he told her.

"They've helped," she said with a shrug. "I know it sounds silly, but they do help."

Harry reached down and took Murphy's hands in his. The warmth from his touch seared her and her eyes widened but she did not pull away. "You still have nightmares because you worry that it will happen again." The bracelet blazed bright again, the light almost blinding them both and his voice was very firm. "It won't happen again," he told her and his words were a promise.

Unhurriedly and with apparent reluctance, he released his grip on her hands. Murphy stared down at the silvery loveliness glowing against her wrist.

"I'm still not convinced that there's really such a thing as magic ... but shouldn't you ask my permission before you go around casting spells on me?" she asked him, even though she was far from angry.

Dresden looked amused. "Why?" He asked her. "Not like you asked before you cast a spell on me," he teased her.

Murphy tried to laugh at his whimsy. "That's a bit cheesey coming from you, Dresden." She was embarrassed to find that her skin felt hot and flushed and that her voice was trembling.

"True," Dresden whispered, leaning towards her. He stared at his reflection in her dilated pupils and reached up to touch her cheek. She had told him that she wouldn't slap him if he ever dared to kiss her again but he hadn't tested to see if she had been telling the truth. "But I doubt I'd be able to break that spell even if I wanted to," he told her softly and Murphy decided that she did believe in magic after all.

  
**end**   



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